


Curiosity Killed the Klance

by patchwork_panda



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Boys Kissing, Crack, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 05:54:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14710359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchwork_panda/pseuds/patchwork_panda
Summary: CRACK FIC, HO!Hunk makes a delicious pasta.Keith made a very slight moaning sound when he ate a bite of IT.Lance cannot focus on anything else except that sound until he gets worked up enough to corner Keith in a hallway and kiss the shit out of him.Out of curiosity of course. Klance-centric with implied Sheith.





	Curiosity Killed the Klance

**Author's Note:**

> Could it be?! Klance?! On my blog??
> 
> Oh it be. It very be. Much crack. Very fluff. I am but a humble multishipper. Please be kind to these poor boys and their raging hormones.
> 
> Seriously though, I wrote this in 2 hours in a furniture warehouse basement. Please, please don't ask.

Lance’s fork fell to the table with an abrupt clatter, the sharp ringing of Altean silverware still not enough to wipe out what he’d just heard.

It had been a small sound. So small he thought it was just his imagination and that no one else had heard it. But then he looked around the table and realized it wasn’t just him. Shiro’s ears had turned a very blatant shade of pink and Hunk was tactfully avoiding all eye contact, showing only the bare minimum of polite embarrassment.

Keith, the quiet, moody, somewhat stoic member of the crew, had moaned.

To be fair, Hunk’s cooking really was that good. But to moan like that?!

Lance was simply unable to *not* stare and only Pidge swiftly kicking his shin under the table was enough to make him blink.

“Don’t stare, it’s rude!” she hissed.

“But he just–”

Another kick. Lance’s eyes watered.

“Look, he’s had a tough week. Let him have this!” Pidge whispered urgently. Lance noted she wasn’t looking at Keith either.

“Hunk, this is amazing,” Keith sighed, finally removing the fork from his mouth with a loud, cringe-inducing pop. Shiro’s hands were shaking and Lance thought he could detect the slightest whiff of melting metal. Yeah, he was definitely not the only one who heard.

“Thanks, Keith,” Hunk replied, his voice so even that Lance now had to redirect his incredulous stare. Luckily, Pidge had stopped kicking him–she was too busy digging in.

“Seriously, Hunk, what did you put in this sauce?” Keith insisted, shoveling another mouthful of noodles past his lips. Lance twitched

Why in God’s name did the sauce have to be white? Watching it drip from Keith’s lips was torture. Cruel and unusual punishment. The United States must have outlawed this kind of thing, so shouldn’t the Alteans?? But no, Allura and Coran were daintily tucking in, with no apparent awareness of Lance’s particular predicament. He eyed Allura curiously, wondering if she was going to make a similar sound as well (that would be even more amazing than Hunk’s pasta, which was already saying a lot). But when she looked up, she only cleared her throat and asked Lance politely to pass the salt.

That left only one option.

“Shiro–”

“Thanks, Hunk. That was a great meal.” Ears and neck now bright red, Shiro was on his feet already. “I got something to take care of so I’ll have to get going. I’ll do dishes next time, ok? Promise.”

He was out the door before Lance could get a second word in and now he was stuck. Here. Across the table from Keith, who was still eating his pasta with an almost inappropriate gusto. Oddly enough, with Shiro’s hurried departure, it seemed the moment had passed and now Lance was pretty sure he was the only one who was still fixated on Keith’s mouth. One by one, the others finished eating at their usual pace and exited the room, leaving him alone …with Keith. Thankfully, the boy had finally finished eating but as he looked up questioningly at Lance, wiping his lips with a brusque swipe of his palm, Lance had to look away in order to pull his mind out of the gutter.

Of all the unexpected things that could turn Lance on, Keith diving into a plate of alien Alfredo would not have made the list. But a lot of unusual things had happened in the last month. Keith had saved his life, not once, but twice just this last week, which was two times more than the usual. The most recent rescue involved Lance dangling over the edge of a sheer cliff with a broken jet pack and Keith blindly throwing himself at him in order to snatch his hand out of thin air. And the way he had looked at Lance as he pulled him back over the edge… Lance half thought Keith would start crying with relief and there was something about that look on his face, so terrified, so thrown off, so out-of-character for Keith. Lance had never been able to forget it and it was those very same dark-blue eyes that were now staring pointedly at him with the usual expression–indifferent and slightly arrogant.

He hadn’t realized he was still staring absently in the direction of Keith’s mouth until the object of his attentions slowly licked his lips and smirked.

“Looks like you’re on dish duty,” Keith declared, pushing his chair back with a grating squeal, thoroughly breaking the illusion. And he left, hands tucked casually into his pockets, a lightness in his step that Lance might find thoroughly suspicious if he had been in his right state of mind. But that ship had sailed the instant he heard that sound coming from Keith’s throat.

It haunted him all day long. It followed in his footsteps, echoed in his brain until the ambient lighting of the castle’s night-time settings were all that was left to keep him company. He lay awake, staring at the ceiling, trying to not replay that moan in his mind, but navigating around the dark corners of his mind was proving more treacherous than flying through an actual asteroid field.

Keith… Keith Kogane was capable of making that kind of sound.

The kind of sound that you’re supposed to make when someone kisses you and kisses you good. The kind of sound Lance imagined Keith might make if he were to shove his hands down the boy’s tight black pants. Really, what would it take to get him to make that sound again? He let out a slight whimper and threw his pillow over his face. It was no good. He wasn’t getting any sleep at this rate. His nighttime beauty regimen–ruined.

“Going to the bathroom,” he mumbled to no one in particular. He got up, stuffed his feet into his blue lion slippers and pushed the button to his door. He didn’t make it two feet down the door before he ran into the very person he’d been trying not to think about.

“Keith!” His voice sounded way too much like a surprised yelp. Keith raised one dark eyebrow, a perfect black arch disappearing into the tousled mess of his hair.

“What?” 

Keith’s voice sounded the same as it always did. Bored, rough, bordering on the edge of irritated as he squinted tiredly at Lance and sighed.

“If you’ve got something to say, just come out with it. You’re blocking the hall and I really don’t have time for this right now.”

“I don’t… I don’t have anything to say,” Lance stammered, trying and failing to sound angry. And then, Keith let out another odd sound. Not quite a moan, but something about the sheer breathiness of that sigh… it made Lance feel like his brain was dripping out of his ears like pink food goo. Suddenly, he couldn’t take it any more. As Keith rolled his eyes and tried to side-step him, Lance suddenly gripped his arm.

“Wait.”

He swung Keith around so that the black-haired boy found himself with his back against the wall. His deep blue eyes widened in surprise and his lips parted a fraction.

“Lance, what–?”

“I gotta know,” Lance groaned and pressed his lips against Keith’s.

He felt Keith’s body go rigid. Was that his heart pounding in his ears or was that Keith punching him in the head repeatedly? He wasn’t sure. His mind was in a fog. As he pulled away at last, he found Keith staring at him, wide-eyed and shell-shocked, his face bright red and his mouth hanging slack. He wasn’t hitting Lance. He wasn’t moving. He was just standing there, his hands hanging limply at his sides. So Lance went back in for another kiss and as their lips connected one more time, he heard it again. One small, tiny, satisfied moan, like an indescribable thirst had been quenched at last.

Finally.


End file.
